On Commando by Dietlof Van Warmelo

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Title: On Commando

Author: Dietlof Van Warmelo

Release Date: February 24, 2005 [eBook #15160]

Language: English

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***START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK ON COMMANDO***

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ON COMMANDO

BY

DIETLOF VAN WARMELO

WITH A PORTRAIT

DIETLOF VAN WARMELO

METHUEN & CO.

36 ESSEX STREET W.C.

LONDON

1902

Colonial Library

PREFACE

This book was written in 1901, while its author was a prisoner at Ahmednagar. It was written in Dutch, and has been
put into English by a young lady from what was the Orange Free State.

The author is a friend and relation of mine, son of a clergyman in the Transvaal, and of old Afrikander stock on both
sides. His book is the more valuable because of the absence of all literary pretensions, and it may be taken as truly
representative of the Afrikander spirit, which has been so much misconceived in England.

FREDERIK VAN EEDEN

WALDEN, N. HOLLAND,
July, 1902

CONTENTS

Page

Preface
v

Contents
vii

Foreword
1

Chapter
I AT THE BOUNDARY--ENTRANCE INTO NATAL--DUNDEE--

LADYSMITH
3

Chapter
II

SIEGE OF LADYSMITH--BATTLE OF THE ROOIRANDJES--
BLOWING
UP OF THE CANNON

14

Chapter
III THE EIGHT-DAY BATTLE OF THE TUGELA--TALK

OF INTERVENTION--RELIEF OF LADYSMITH
25

Chapter
IV DEWETSDRIFT--RETURN TO, AND FLIGHT FROM, PRETORIA
35

Chapter
V TREK FROM MIDDELBURG TO RUSTENBURG--BATTLE OF

SELIKATSNEK
43

Chapter
VI

GUERILLA LIFE ON THE MAGALIES MOUNTAINS--NARROW
ESCAPE
OF PRESIDENT STEYN AND GENERAL DE WET

58

Chapter
VII WITH PRESIDENT STEYN TO PRESIDENT KRUGER
68

Chapter
VIII WITH PRESIDENT STEYN IN THE BOSCHVELD--LOST
76

Chapter
IX PRACTICAL HINTS--ADVENTURE ON THE SABIE--NORTH

OF LYDENBURG
86

Chapter
X

FROM ROOSSENEKAL TO PIETERSBURG--WITH GENERAL
BEYERS
TO THE MAGALIES MOUNTAINS

97

Chapter
XI BATTLE OF NOOITGEDACHT
106

Chapter
XII PAARDEKRAAL DAY--BATTLE IN THE MOAT--ATTACK ON

KAALFONTEIN STATION
118

Chapter
XIII COMMANDO SUFFERINGS
130

Chapter
XIV BATTLE OF BOESMANSKOP--FLIGHT OF WOMEN
140

Chapter
XV BATTLE OF CHRISSIESMEER--REUNION WITH GENERAL

BEYERS
151

Chapter
XVI CAMPED NEAR TAFELKOP
162

CONCLUSION BATTLE OF STOMPIES--IN THE HANDS OF THE ENEMY
171

MY LIFE ON COMMANDO

FOREWORD

Could I have known that the war would last so long, I might from the beginning have taken notes. They would have
brought back memories in a way pleasant to me now, and perhaps also to those who have asked me to write down my
adventures.

Often it occurred to me to keep a diary, but I was obliged to give up the idea because my clothes were sometimes so
thoroughly drenched that the letters in my pocket were not readable. Later on, when clothes were scarce and pockets
past mending, I often made the unpleasant discovery that caused the fool, on his journey from the land of Kokanje, to
cry to the King: 'We have ridden at such a breakneck pace, see, everything has slipped through this little hole!' Now I
am obliged to write down my adventures without any notes, so dates, numbers, and names of places will occasionally
be missing. It stands to reason that I—being an exile in a strange country, in the fort of ... in ..., cut off from the world
outside and without any official reports—should simply limit myself to my own personal experience. And, lastly, I must
apologize to my readers for so often speaking of myself and my friends; but that is inevitable in this tale.

I shall pass rapidly over the first part of my life on commando. If my memory plays me false—which is not very
probable, as I still have a lively recollection of the events—I shall be grateful for correction.

July, 1901.

I

AT THE BOUNDARY—ENTRANCE INTO NATAL—DUNDEE—LADYSMITH

When that part of the Pretoria town commando to which my brother Frits and I belonged left for the Natal boundary on
September 30, 1899, we were all very enthusiastic, as could be seen from the nice new suits, the new shining guns, and
the sleek horses. Many ladies had come to the station to see us off, and we were proud of having the opportunity to
fight for our country. Our departure seemed then to us a great occasion, we were inexperienced in war. We had not yet
learnt that one could pass unscathed through many a fierce battle. We knew nothing of 'retreating' and we knew all
about the enemy with whom we were to come in contact. We imagined that several sharp engagements would take
place—that these would be decisive battles in which many of our men would be killed, and therefore the parting with
relatives and friends was sad indeed.

Our Field-Cornet, Melt Marais, had told us that we had nothing to see to except provisions for a day or two, as
Government would supply us with all necessaries at Zandspruit, where the commandos were to concentrate; so many of
us took neither pots, pans, nor mugs.

What a disillusion it was to find on our arrival at Zandspruit that there were no tents, and as yet no provisions of any
kind! So we were initiated by having to pass the first nights of our commando life on the open veld with insufficient
food. And in the daytime our work was cut out for us, as every other minute our horses disappeared—lost among the
thousands of horses that all looked exactly alike in the eyes of an inexperienced townsman. Then it meant a running and
seeking, an examining of marks and tokens, until the stupid among us were obliged to tie ribbons to our horses as a
means of recognising them. And one, the story goes, even tied a nosebag, with a bundle of forage, to his mount so that
it should not run away.

At length the provisions began to arrive, but the pots and pans were still scarce and we could not even drink a cup of
coffee till a tin of jam or meat had been emptied.

We were just beginning to feel comfortable, when the time stated in the ultimatum expired, and we had to cross the
boundary of Natal. General Erasmus was at the head of our commando. We spent the night near Volksrust in a cold
hail storm and rain. Those first days we are not likely to forget. They were wet, cold days, and we were still
unaccustomed to preparing our own food and looking after ourselves. Fortunately, we had the opportunity, a few days
later, of supplying ourselves with all necessaries at Newcastle.

Before we crossed the boundary General Erasmus had addressed us and told us the news of our first victory—the
taking of an armoured train at Kraaipan; at that time we still made a fuss about such a trifle. Also, in those days, we still
looked up with respect to our leaders.

Ds. Postma, who accompanied us everywhere, led us in prayer. Not one of the burghers seems to have known where
the enemy were. We advanced slowly and carefully, as we expected to meet with the enemy at any moment; but we
saw no signs of them until we came to Dundee. After a rest of a few days we undertook the momentous expedition to
the mountains of Dundee, to the north of the town.

Towards evening we got the order to 'prepare for three days.' For three days! And we had not even provisions enough
for one. But we understood that there could not yet be a proper commissariat, and we fought for our country willingly,
convinced of the justice of our cause; so we 'prepared' cheerfully.

Before the commando started, a terrible thunderstorm came on that slowly passed over and was followed by a gentle
rain. We rode hard in the dark, through dongas, past farms and houses, zigzagging in a half-circle, to the mountains of
Dundee. No sound was to be heard except the dull thud of the hoofs of the galloping horses. Now and again we
whispered to each other how delightfully we were going to surprise the enemy. When the horses came to a sudden
pause, and an inexperienced rider, owing to a presentiment of evil, involuntarily uttered his wish to 'halt,' we turned upon
him angrily and called him 'traitor.' We did not then know that we were far beyond earshot of the enemy. It stopped
raining, and towards morning we reached the mountains; and after we had with great difficulty got our horses on to the
mountains, we had to await the dawn in the cold, drenched to the skin. A mackintosh is of small service in such a rain.
When the day dawned we led our horses higher up. A thick fog had come on. General Lucas Meyer was to begin the
attack on the west, and we were to surprise the enemy from the heights.

When the roar of cannon announced the battle, we were full of enthusiasm, but General Erasmus forbade anyone to
move on before the fog lifted. It was quite possible that the fog might be only on the mountain-tops, because of their
great height, and that we would have clear weather as soon as we began to descend, therefore several of our men
begged General Erasmus to be allowed to go on ahead as scouts. But he was very much against it, and said that the
enemy might cut off our retreat, and 'if the enemy surround us it is all up with us,' said he. As soon as the roar of the
cannon ceased, we withdrew some distance into the mountains to let our horses graze. But we had only just off-
saddled, when from all sides came the cry of 'Saddle! saddle!' and from our left, in the valley, came the sound of firing.
A detachment of 250 khakies, probably knowing nothing of our whereabouts, and intending to pass round the
mountains and attack Lucas Meyer in the rear, was compelled to surrender in a few moments, after first having sought
cover in a kraal near a house.

We remained three days on the Dundee mountains, and during all that time there was a steady drizzle, with intervals of
hail and wind. Once when it cleared up for a few hours we got the order to attack the town, but it began to rain again,
and that night we had to keep our positions in the intense cold, without any covering. Fortunately, the enemy abandoned
their camp that night, and when we looked down upon the town next morning the khakies had vanished. We had only
the preceding day placed our cannon in a position to command the camp.

When we returned to our saddles, the horses had strayed so far that it took us almost all day to get them back. My
uncle, Paul Maré, formerly Volksraad member for Zoutpansberg, treated us to kaboe-mealies (roasted maize), the first
we had on commando, and we ate with great relish.

Meanwhile the commando had left. We followed, and entered Dundee, where we helped ourselves hungrily to the good
things from the shops placed at the disposal of the commandos.

In an unorganized army looting is a necessary evil. There are always some of the lower classes who are the ringleaders,
and when the commandos reach a house or farm that has already been looted, they join in the looting 'because the
burghers are on commando, and they must be well supplied with all necessaries, so as to be able to fight well.' So we
reasoned, and we joined in the looting. I can affirm, to the honour of our burghers, that it was not our intention to
plunder, and in the beginning much was done to prevent it. The lower class Uitlander, who joined us for the sake of
booty, and not for love and sympathy towards us, was largely responsible for the bad name we got among right-minded
people who did not know the facts of the case. It was the same as regards theft. If anyone missed his horse, he had but
to look for it among the 'Irish corps,' or some other Uitlander corps, and unless he knew his beast well he would fail to
recognise it, as both mane and tail would have been cut short by the thief. I do not wish to pretend that we were always
free from blame. It has happened that the Uitlander got a very poor horse in exchange for his thoroughbred because a
Boer had tied the token of recognition to his own horse and made off with the better one. The truth is that very few men
are proof against the demoralizing influence of war, and I will not deny that this war has shown up our many faults; but
in my tale I shall be able to take up the cudgels for my people in cases where the rest of the world turned from us
because they were disappointed in their expectations of us.

After our departure from Dundee the looting went on freely. Then we began to witness the devastation that is the
irremediable consequence of war. Here and there a house had been completely plundered. At Glencoe Junction I
entered the stationmaster's house, a well-furnished house with beautiful pictures, books, and mirrors. Some massive
silver mugs and other articles of value were lying about. The family had only just dined, for the cloth was still laid. I ate
of the food on the table, wrote a letter home with pen and ink, and left the house. Later on, when I returned, it had been
thoroughly looted and some of the mirrors smashed. There were many of the riff-raff, Kaffirs and coolies in the
neighbourhood, and in all probability they had done the mischief.

When our commando left Dundee to move in the direction of Ladysmith, part of the Pretoria town commando was sent
to reinforce Lucas Meyer, who was to follow the troops fleeing from Dundee with his commando. My brother and I
went with it. A terrible thunderstorm came on just then, and during the whole march to Ladysmith it rained heavily.
Every moment we expected to come up with the troops, but they had too great a start, and we did not overtake them at
all. We were too late again. An English General has said that 'the Boers are brave, and make good plans, but are
always twenty-four hours late.' That can be explained in this way. We were accustomed to fighting against Kaffirs, who
hid in woods and mountains, and against whom we had to advance with the utmost precaution, so as to lose as few
lives as possible. So we were too cautious in the beginning of the war. We would not make a great sacrifice to win a
battle.

On October 30 we were present, under Lucas Meyer, at the battle near Ladysmith, but we did not come into action, as
we belonged to a part of the commando that had to hold a position to prevent attack in the rear. The enemy did not
attack our position at all, except with a few bombs, because they suffered a great defeat near Modderspruit, and had to
retreat hurriedly. From our positions we could see how every time the bombs burst among them the fleeing troops
seemed to get 'mazed' for a moment, and then went forward again.

At that time we were often in want of food. One must have suffered hunger to know what it means. In a few linen bags I
had some biscuits that had first been reduced to crumbs through the riding, and then to a kind of pap by the rain and
perspiration of the horse. Often when I felt the pangs of famine I added some sugar to this mess and ate it with relish.

Some days later we left Lucas Meyer and returned to our commando, which had meanwhile gone to the north of
Ladysmith. During our absence Zeederberg had taken the place of Melt Marais as Veld-Cornet.

II

SIEGE OF LADYSMITH—BATTLE OF THE ROOIRANDJES—BLOWING UP OF THE CANNON

When we surrounded the town and the siege began, all talk of the bananas that we were to eat in the south of Natal
came to an end.

Ladysmith ought never to have been besieged. On October 30 we should have made use of our advantage. If we had
at once followed the enemy when they fled in disorder, we should in all probability easily have taken those positions that
would have involved the immediate surrender of Ladysmith. Many lives would have been sacrificed, but not so many as
were sacrificed during the whole siege. And we might have used those men who were necessary to maintain the siege
elsewhere as an attacking force. Instead of following up our advantage, we deliberately prepared for a siege. The
enemy meanwhile made use of the opportunity to entrench themselves well. Most of our burghers were against our
attempting to take the town by assault when once it was thoroughly entrenched.

The Pretoria town commando and that from Krokodil River in the Pretoria district occupied the position nearest to
Ladysmith. This was a hill to the north of the town, flat at the top, and surrounded by a stone wall. In all probability the
enclosed depression of about 500 paces in circuit had been used as a cattle-kraal. Against that kopje (hill) we gradually
put up our tents. From our camp we looked on to a large flat mountain that we called Little Amajuba, because on
October 30 the first large capture of prisoners had been made there. In front of our kopje, near the foot, ran a donga,
and at a distance of about 1,000 paces, parallel to us, lay another oblong kopje occupied by the enemy. This kopje we
called Rooirandjes.

On November 8 we received the order from our General to attack the Rooirandjes the following day. We were about
250 strong, and very willing, as that position had not yet been entrenched. On a mountain to our right a cannon had
been placed that was to begin firing on the enemy's position towards dawn. Distinct orders were given that our Veld-
Cornet was to be at the foot of Rooirandjes with his men before daybreak. But something went wrong again, and it was
already quite light when we reached the donga. We found ourselves at a distance of about 700 paces from the
Rooirandjes, and we had to cross an open space if we still wished to storm the position. The enemy's watch already
began shooting at us.

The corporals let their men advance in groups of four from the donga to the kopje, using the ant-hills as cover when
they lay down. Our turn came last, but meanwhile the enemy had received reinforcements, and the nearest ant-hills were
nearly all occupied, so that only three men could go at a time. Such a shower of bullets fell that it was a miracle that we
came out of it alive. Fortunately I found a free ant-hill. My brother had to share one with a comrade.

At last the cannon from the mountain fired a few shots, but stopped again almost immediately—why, I do not yet know.
So we were obliged to lie in our positions. It was terribly hot, and not a cloud in the sky. We suffered horribly from
thirst, and scarcely dared move to get at our water-bags. One of our comrades lay groaning behind me. He was shot
through both legs. The bullets kept flying over our heads to the kopje behind us, where some of our burghers lay firing
at the enemy. Every now and again a bullet exploded in our neighbourhood with the noise of a pistol-shot. I fancy only
Dum-Dums make that peculiar noise. We had already seen many such bullets taken from the enemy by our burghers in
the Battle of Modderspruit. Another burgher, Mulder, ran past me with a smile on his lips, threw himself behind an ant-
hill, immediately rose again with the intention of joining some of our burghers in the front ranks, who sat calmly smoking
behind some rocks under a tree, but had not gone two paces when he was shot in the thigh. There he had to lie
groaning until our brave Reineke, who was killed later on at Spion Kop, saw a chance of carrying him away.

Some of us fell asleep from fatigue. One of our men on waking heard the hiss of a bullet over his head at regular
intervals, and thought that a khaki had got closer up to him, and was firing at him from the side. When he lifted his head
he found that he had rolled away from all cover. One, two, three, back he was again behind his ant-hill, and the
scoundrel stopped firing at him. It was lucky for us that the enemy were such bad shots, or not many of us would have
lived to tell the tale.

When our cannon at last, towards evening, condescended to bombard the enemy, the firing almost wholly ceased, and
we made use of that favourable opportunity to get back to the donga. We had lain nine hours behind those ant-hills,
and, strange to say, there were only two wounded on our side. We decided not to run the same risk again. In this way
we lost our confidence in men like the brothers Erasmus, General and Commandant, who, in the first place, were
incapable of organizing a good plan of attack, and, secondly, never took part in a battle.

The months spent near Ladysmith were to most of us the most tedious of the whole war. We had so little to do, and the
heat between the glowing rocks of the kopjes was awful. The little work we had was anything but pleasant; it consisted
chiefly in keeping guard either by day or by night. In the beginning a very bad watch was kept. Later on we had to
climb the kopje at least every alternate evening to pass the long nights in our positions, while not far behind us stood our
empty tents.

When we got back in the morning with our bundles on our backs, dead tired, we simply 'flopped' on to a stone, and sat
waiting for our cup of coffee, either gazing at the lovely landscape or at the dirty camp, according to the mood we were
in, or exchanging loud jokes with our neighbours. Constantly being on guard and constantly being in danger wears one
out. We much prefer active service on patrol or in a skirmish to lying in our positions. It is not in the nature of the Boer
to lie inactive far from his home. He soon wants to go 'huis-toe' (home), and very soon the 'leave-plague' broke out in
our camp. That plague was one of the causes why the enemy succeeded in breaking through our lines.

Through unfairness on the part of the officers, some burghers often got leave, others never, and the consequence, of
course, was a constant quarrelling. Many burghers got leave and never returned—either with or without the knowledge
of the officers. No wonder we never had a proper fighting force in the field.

The difficulties we had to contend with through want of organization prevented the Generals from putting their plans into
execution.

Fortunately, many burghers were very willing, and if there was to be a fight they always went voluntarily. It was
noticeable that those under a capable General fought well, while those under a bad or incapable General were very
weak indeed. Sometimes wonders were done at the initiative of some of the burghers. We had a few games in the camp
to pass the time, but we were kept busy in a different way also. Sometimes, when we were all just comfortably lazy, the
order would be given to 'mount.' That meant a hurried search for our horses and snatching up our guns and bandoliers.
But after a while we had had enough of those false alarms, and they failed to make any impression on us. The call of
'The English are coming! saddle, saddle!' became proverbial.

When we did not keep such constant guard, we sat or lay listening of an evening to a most discordant noise caused by
the singing of psalms and hymns at the same time at different farms. We sometimes joined in. As a people we are not
very musical.

The day-watch we liked best. Then we often got a chance of firing a shot at a careless khaki on the Rooirandjes. To
some of our young men there was something very exciting in the idea that they were in constant danger. Every now and
again a bomb, too, would come flying over the camp, and the whole commando would make for the rocks amid shouts
of laughter.

At that time we still felt rather down when there was a fight in prospect. When, some time after our attack on the
Rooirandjes, we went to the west of Ladysmith to attack Platrand, we did not feel at all comfortable, although we went
voluntarily. It was a lovely ride in the dark at a flying gallop, but when we found on our arrival at Platrand that the
promised number of men was not there, we rode away again quite satisfied that we had not to attempt the attack. For
had we not made up our minds not to risk a repetition of the attack on Rooirandjes?

The blowing-up of the cannon at Ladysmith is one of the episodes of the war that we look back upon with a feeling of
shame. A few days after a Long Tom had been blown up on Umbulwana Kop, east of Ladysmith, I warned our Field-
Cornet that the enemy were busy spying in our neighbourhood at night. While on guard, we could distinctly hear the

flapping of the saddles and the neighing of the horses in front of us. I foretold a repetition of what had happened on
Umbulwana Kop. The Field-Cornet promised that the guard would be doubled that night. Towards morning those of us
who were not on guard were waked out of our sleep by a loud cry of 'Hurrah!' from the throats of a few hundred
Englishmen who were blowing up two cannon on a mountain to our right, close to us. We sprang towards our positions,
stumbling and falling over stones, not knowing what was going on, and expecting the khakies at any moment. It was the
first time that we had heard a fight at night, and it gave us a creepy feeling. We saw the flames of the guns and from the
exploding bullets, and heard the rattling of the shots and the shouting, but we could not join in the fight, as we—eight of
us—were not allowed to leave our positions. Now and again a bullet fell in our neighbourhood, and the Free State
Artillery, who were on the mountains to the right, fired some bombs at the enemy, nearly hitting us in the dark.

When it got lighter we went to look at the dead and wounded, perhaps from a feeling of bravado, perhaps to accustom
ourselves to the sight. The enemy had paid dearly for their brave deed. They know the number of their dead and
wounded better than we do, for they had opportunity enough to carry them away. On our side only four were killed and
a few wounded. Niemeyer, Van Zyl and Villiers were among the killed. Pott was severely wounded. Niemeyer had
several bayonet wounds.

After that we were, of course, doubly careful. We have never been able to discover who failed in their duty on guard.
Cooper and Tossel were suspected and accused. They were sent to Pretoria under arrest, but the investigation never
led to any result. We have every reason to believe that our burghers were guilty of treachery more than once near
Ladysmith. Government ought from the start to have taken strict measures against traitors and spies.

Some days after the blowing up of the cannon I sprained my left knee, which I had already hurt before the war began.
General Erasmus gave me leave to go home for an unlimited time. On my way home I passed my brother Willem
without being aware of it. He had come from Holland, where he was studying, to take part in the war.

What a meeting with relatives and friends! How much there was to tell! Even then we had not experienced very much,
and how much more will our burghers have to tell their dear ones on returning from their exile in strange countries!
There will, alas! be much sorrow, too; for many of our friends and relatives have been killed in this war, and many more
will have yet to give their lives for their country!

III

THE EIGHT-DAY BATTLE OF THE TUGELA—TALK OF INTERVENTION—RELIEF OF LADYSMITH

Before my knee was quite cured I returned to Ladysmith. The first thing that caught my eye on my return to the camp
was the balloon above Ladysmith. It looked just like a large crocodile-eye as it followed all my movements. When I
went to look for my horse or to fetch water or wood, there it stood, high up in the sky, and I felt as if it kept its eye
specially fixed on me, and as if I might expect a bomb at any moment.

We had never in all our lives seen so many flies as at Ladysmith. We had to hurry over our meals as they made eating
almost an impossibility to us. Fortunately, I was only a short time there, as towards the end of January, 1900, part of
our commando, including my brother and myself, was sent to the Tugela as reinforcement. We had a distance of four
and a half hours to ride, and we had to ride hard, as the enemy were determined to force their way through. We arrived
the same day, just two days after the enemy had tried to force their way through to the right of Spion Kop and had
been defeated. On nearing the high Tugela mountains we heard more and more distinctly the constant rattling of bullets,
interrupted by the roar of the cannon and the bom-bom-bom of our saucy bomb-Maxim, that made our hearts expand
and those of the enemy shrink. As we raced on to the foot of the mountains, the bullets that the enemy were sending
over the mountains to find the Boers raised the dust around us.

The following morning we went to lie in a trench that had been dug by our men on a rise to the right of Spion Kop. The
previous day eight burghers had been wounded there. Red Danie Opperman was Field-Cornet. Not far from us, to our
left, stood a few of our cannon, and facing us, to our left, on the long mountain slope, we could see fourteen guns of the
enemy's. In front of us was a large wood, and close to that the English camp. We could see the enemy moving in great
close square masses. It was a terribly hot day; we had to lie in the trenches, as all day long the enemy fired at us from
the smaller positions facing us, at a distance of 15,000 paces; and constantly the bombs burst over our heads. At
regular intervals a lyddite bomb—that gave us a shock through our whole body—came from the wood towards the
cannon on our left. Once only part of our entrenchment, where, fortunately, no one happened to be, was blown to bits.

Whenever there was a moment's pause, we lifted our heads above the trenches to have a look at the lovely landscape
and at the positions of our enemy. That day not one of us was wounded. Only the artillery suffered. If our few cannon
ventured to make themselves heard, eight or more bombs followed in quick succession to silence them. Next to me lay
a man whose servant, a restless, impatient Bushman, most amicably addressed him as Johnny. The Bushman went to
and fro continually to a 'chum' of his who lay hidden behind a rock close to us. Once, on one of his visits to his 'chum,' a
bullet struck the ground close to his heels; he stood still, looked slowly and defiantly from his heels to the enemy, and
said in a most emphatic tone, 'You confounded Englishman!' and calmly proceeded on his way to his chum.

To the right of this position was an open space, almost level with the immediate surroundings, but ending in a steep
decline some 900 paces further on. There we went towards evening with a reinforcement of the Pretoria town
commando that had followed us. The Field-Cornet made us stand in rows, and told off forty men to dig a trench that
night. The rest of the men would relieve us the following night. My brother and I were in the first shift. Towards
morning, while we were still digging at the trenches, fire was opened across the whole line of battle. We imagined that
we were being attacked, and jammed ourselves in the narrow trench. But as the attack did not come off, and the bullets
flew high over our heads, we went on digging until daybreak. Then we noticed that the enemy were lying in a trench
about 800 paces ahead of us. We fired a few shots at them, but saved our ammunition for an eventual storming.

The whole of that day and the two succeeding days there was a constant salvo over our heads. The bullets flew over
our heads like finches, and did us no harm, but we had to be on our guard against the sharpshooters, who occasionally
fired close to us. That day (January 24), the heroic Battle of Spion Kop took place, where our burghers, after having
been surprised in the night by the enemy and driven off the kop, obliged them, after a stubborn fight, to abandon it
again. The Pretoria men, who were to have relieved us in the trench, took a great part in that battle. Reineke, Yeppe,
Malherbe, De Villiers, and Olivier were killed. Ihrige was severely wounded.

All day long we lay listening to the fighting, for we could not sleep. We had to stay in the trench three days and four
nights before we were relieved. Water and food were brought to us, or fetched by our men at night, as we did not
venture to leave the trench by day. We were safe enough, for the bombs had not much effect on the sand-walls of our
trench, and there was always time to stoop to avoid them. The following morning news was brought to us that the
enemy had abandoned the whole line of battle and were retreating in the direction of Chieveley.

The battle of the Tugela had lasted eight days.

I had again hurt my knee, and had to leave Ladysmith for Pretoria, from whence I went to Warmbad at Waterberg to
stay for a few weeks with Mrs. Klein-Frikkie Grobler, who received me most kindly. My brother Frits got leave for the
first time then, too, and Willem remained at Ladysmith. During my absence the English broke through at Pieter's
Heights, where Willem was made prisoner and Lüttig, Malherbe and Stuart de Villiers were killed. Meanwhile Frits had
gone, with some other Pretoria men, to the Orange Free State, where the enemy had surrounded General Cronje.

Since the beginning of the siege our burghers always thought the town would fall soon. 'The khakies cannot hold out any
longer! They have no provisions, and their ammunition must be coming to an end! Buller can never cross the Tugela, our
positions are too good! What does it matter if I do go on leave? The khakies cannot get through!' That was the opinion
of most of the burghers. And if anyone ventured to point out that the enemy might force their way through because we
did not all do our duty, he was either not believed or looked upon as a traitor. Meanwhile enthusiasm was dying out.
The burghers lay in their lagers or went home, trusting to the few willing ones, who ultimately proved not strong enough
to withstand the overwhelming force that Buller brought to bear upon one point of our positions when he was obliged to
force his way through at no matter what cost.

No leave should have been given during the war, and here I may as well mention—although this tale does not pretend
to be a history of the war—that it has been carried on with far too great laxity, owing to the ignorance of our Generals
and the demoralizing influence of self-interest and nepotism. We should have sent our forces far into the Cape Colony
to get help from our brothers in a war that had been forced upon us by England. The Colonial Afrikanders never had
the opportunity of standing by us, because we did not supply them with the necessary ammunition or stretch out our
hands towards them. Unless they had help from our invading forces, they dared not risk a rising, because of the
confiscation of their property in case of failure.

We have had to suffer—to suffer cruelly for our sins. Our enemy forced his way through the dyke that surrounded us,
and like a stormy sea he ruined our homes, devastated our fields, and caused us endless suffering. Besides this, the talk
of intervention had an enervating effecton the commandos. In our commando, which was largely composed of ignorant
men, the strangest stories went round. One was that the Russians had landed somewhere in South Africa with 100
cannon. There was always talk of a great European War having broken out; and the consequence was that the Boers
counted on intervention or help from the Powers, instead of depending on their own strength and perseverance. The
most sensible among us recognised the improbability of intervention. It was not to the interest of any foreign Power to
intervene in South Africa where it had no firm footing, particularly as Chamberlain had, by most cunning artifices, forced
us to be the aggressors.

War was inevitable. Sooner or later it had to come. After the Jameson Raid, which was really the beginning of the war,
the Transvaal Government recognised the dangerous position in which it stood, as an isolated Republic, and was
therefore obliged to arm itself with the most modern of military equipments. Before the Jameson Raid race hatred was
dying out rapidly. The consequence of the raid was that the gap between Boer and Englishman widened, the sympathy
of the Uitlanders for us grew deeper, and the Afrikander Bond grew stronger. England's prestige in South Africa was
threatened, and with it her rank as first Power in the world. She had to maintain her supremacy in South Africa; while
for us it had become a question of all or nothing. England has evidently succeeded in keeping up such friendly relations
with the other Powers that no intervention seems possible.

The relief of Ladysmith took place on February 28—a Majuba Day—a day that had been marked as a red-letter day
in our calendars. For nineteen years the enemy have longed to wipe out the remembrance of that day, and they have
done so brilliantly and malignantly. Since that time we have been humiliated and belittled. Our fall was great. For the first

time there was a general panic. The two Republics, being forced to venture on war against a powerful kingdom, felt
themselves staggering under the heavy blow.

IV

DEWETSDRIFT—RETURN TO, AND FLIGHT FROM, PRETORIA

After the relief of Kimberley and Ladysmith we imagined that the decisive battles would soon follow. Although my knee
was not yet cured, I went to Glencoe, whither our commandos had retreated. I was not five days there when I had to
leave, being unfit for active service. Again I went to Warmbad for some weeks with Mr. Burgemeester Potgieter and
his family, and on my return to Pretoria remained in my office until the beginning of May.

Meanwhile Frits had returned from the Free State, and my knee was cured. We each bought ourselves a sturdy pony,
and left, with some other burghers, by train for Klerksdorp, from where we went on to Dewetsdrift, on the Vaal River.
General Viljoen was guarding the drift there with some hundreds of burghers. We rode from there some four or five
hours into the Free State to spy the movements of the enemy.

From Dewetsdrift we went, under Commandant Boshoff, to Schoemansdrift, Venterskroon, and Lindequidrift. Our
division formed part of the escort for the guns. Our route lay through beautiful scenery. The Vaal twists and bends
between two high mountains that curve on either side like the roads the khaki makes with his double row of waggons
over the hills of the Hoogeveld. In every opening of the mountains lies a farm, a mean little house, but among well-
cultivated fields. In nearly every farm the family was grieving for one of its members who had been taken prisoner along
with Cronje, and of whose fate they were in ignorance. The people received us very kindly. Everywhere we got milk
and biscuits, and we found afterwards that those people were the kindest who had suffered the most from the war.

As the enemy were already on their way to Johannesburg, we had to retreat as rapidly as possible, first to Bank
Station, near Potchefstroom, and then by train to Langlaagte. To the north-west of Johannesburg we had a skirmish
with the enemy, who attacked us as we were feeding our horses. It appeared that our guard was not on duty. I have
never seen horses saddled so quickly. Most of the burghers rode off and left us behind with the guns. One ammunition
waggon stuck in the mud, and was left behind, but was brought in safety to Pretoria by Frans Lottering, a comrade of
mine, who rode back for it with some gunners when we had fled. Lottering was given a sword by General de la Rey for
his brave conduct. Through negligence on the part of our officers we lost on that occasion one gun, several waggons,
and some of our men.

Almost all night long we retreated with our guns to Pretoria. We had not lost courage. We all spoke of the thorough
way in which our Government would have fortified Pretoria, and of the great battle that would take place there. We had
all made up our minds to a stubborn resistance at our capital. What a bitter disappointment it was to find that our
Government had decided not to defend the town! The causes that led to such a decision will be brought to light by
historians. The consequences were that many of the burghers were discouraged, and rode 'huis-toe,' and nothing came
of the great battle that was to have been fought.

Frits and I decided to give our horses a few days' rest in their stables before going to meet the enemy.

On June 4, at about twelve o'clock, while we were at luncheon, a lyddite bomb fell close to the fort, raising a cloud of
dust. My mother went outside, and came back quickly to tell us that it was not a shot from the fort, but from the
enemy. The bombs followed in quick succession. They flew over Schanskop fort, and fell close to our house at
Sunnyside. As the ground was rocky they exploded well. My mother and sister fled with our neighbours to the town,
and my brother and I saddled our horses and rode off to Quaggaspoort.

From over the mountains, to the south of the town, the bombs came flying as a gentle warning from the khakies that it
would be better to surrender in order to avoid a great calamity.

It was sad to see how few horses there were at the foot of the mountain. Here a group of four, there of ten—a sign that
the number of burghers in the positions was very small indeed. When the enemy appeared at Quaggaspoort, we noticed
that the burghers from the direction of Krokodil River were retreating, and a moment later they were all in full flight.
One of my comrades, a brother of Lottering, was wounded in the arm by a shell as he fled, and had to remain behind in
Pretoria. That night my brother and I spent in our own home, but we left the town the following morning in the direction
of Silverton, just before the enemy entered.

It would be well to try and understand the condition of our country and the temper of our burghers.

As the capital was in the hands of the enemy, it was easy enough to convince our simple-minded men that our country
was irretrievably lost to us. Therefore a period of discouragement and demoralization followed. Many burghers, also,
who had all along fought bravely now remained behind in the towns or on their farms, not daring to leave their wives
and daughters at the mercy of the soldiers. We may not judge those men, neither need we consider it to our credit that
we, either from a sense of duty or from a spirit of adventure, acted differently. There were many also who argued that
the Government was corrupt, and that the war should have been prevented, or that the Boers did not want to fight. So

they also became unfaithful to the cause, and to those along with whom they began the war. And the name of 'hands-
upper' was earned by those burghers who of their own free will surrendered to the enemy. The chaff was divided from
the grain; cowards and traitors remained behind, and the willing ones went to the veld, even though it were in a
retreating direction. We were still very hopeful. There were still the good positions in the Lydenberg district, and we had
heard that De Wet had cut the line of communication behind the enemy. We also still had an intact line to Delagoa Bay.

My brother and I met our old comrade Frans Loitering, and the three of us went in search of General Grobler of
Waterberg, who lay with his commando to the east of Pretoria at Franspoort, near Donkerhoek. There we joined his
commando. Our camp was put up near a Kaffir location, and as the Kaffirs were clean, we often bought boiled sweet
potatoes and crushed maize from them.

Nothing particular happened at Franspoort. To the right and left of us some desperate fighting went on for several days,
and at Donkerhoek a fierce battle took place, but we were not attacked.

When the news came that the enemy had broken through our lines at Donkerhoek, and that we had to retreat, my
brother and I left Grobler's commando. Thinking that the commandos would fall back upon the positions of Belfast, we
went to Middelburg to an uncle of ours, the missionary Jan Maré, in order to give our horses a rest. We had lost sight
of our comrade Frans. On our way we bought bread at the farms, or had it given us, cut a piece off an ox that had been
slaughtered for the commando, and slept either in a manger or, as was more often the case, in the open air of the cold
Hoogeveld. We arrived at Middelburg completely exhausted, and are not likely to forget our uncle's great hospitality.

We accidentally met our former Commandant, Boshoff, who told us that he was on his way with ten men to join
General de la Rey, who had gone in the direction of Rustenburg to cut the enemy's line of communication between
Mafeking and Pretoria, and we very willingly joined him, after a delightful rest of ten days.

The commando of Commandant Boshoff consisted of nine burghers with an ambulance waggon—that was used for the
commissariat and for our bedding—a French doctor, two Kaffirs and two tents. It seemed as if we were going for a
picnic. But it was necessary that we should be well provided with all sorts of things, as our journey would be through
the Boschland, where fever and horse-sickness play havoc with man and horse in summer. In winter it is endurable for a
few months only, so the country is very scarcely populated and almost uncultivated, and in winter the Boers trek there
with their cattle from the bare, chill Hoogeveld. I had always longed to see that part of the Transvaal.

V

TREK FROM MIDDELBURG TO RUSTENBURG—BATTLE OF SELIKATSNEK

Some hours north of Middelburg one suddenly leaves the high plateau of the Boschveld for a difficult road that curves
steadily downwards between two high mountains until it reaches a wide, thickly-wooded valley. In the kloof (mountain-
pass) a swiftly-flowing river cuts the road that goes along its banks, in several places, before it loses itself in the Olifants
River. There the song of many birds, not to be found on the Hoogeveld, can be heard, and there it was delightfully
warm, in comparison with the chilly air of the Hoogeveld. Of an evening we made large fires, as there was plenty of dry
wood. We sat round the fire, chatting or listening to the comic songs which one of our comrades sang. It was a happy
time—away from khaki, far beyond reach of the roar of cannon—a time of rest in preparation for the evil days that
awaited us.

Everywhere we saw flocks of sheep and herds of cattle grazing among the bushes—always a sign that we should find a
waggon or two with tents close to them, under the nearest trees. Sometimes, near a drift or a good place to uitspan,
quite a small lager had been formed of the trek Boers, or, rather, of their wives, for the husbands and sons of many had
gone to the war. The Boers who fled with their cattle in that way we called 'Bush-lancers.' We came up with De la
Rey's lager near the Elands River, and later on made the acquaintance of Captain Kirsten's scouts, to whom we offered
our services. In those days it was very pleasant to belong to the reconnoitring corps. When we went to reconnoitre our
horses got plenty of forage on the farms, and as we were few in number and always ahead of the lager, there were
always eggs, bread, and milk to be had. We had enough to do, also, as we had to keep a sharp look-out, and we were
in constant danger, but not at all afraid of the patrols of khakies, which, being small in number and without their guns,
were pretty harmless. We advanced almost parallel to the Magalies Mountains, that stretch from Pretoria to
Rustenburg, until we came to the neighbourhood of Selikatsnek. Unless one was well acquainted with the highways and
byways of that part of the country, one was in constant danger of losing the way; it is a long stretch of bush, consisting
of the well-known thorn-bushes of the Hoogeveld, for a distance of about ten miles deep. The principal passes of the
Magalies Mountains were occupied by the enemy—Wonderboompoort, Hornsnek, Selikatsnek, Commandonek,
Olifantsnek. General de la Rey had made up his mind to take Selikatsnek, and on July 11 he succeeded, by his strong
will and military talent.

While we were reconnoitring with Captain Kirsten's party we got the news that De la Rey had attacked Selikatsnek—
about an hour's ride from where we were—and that the battle was still going on. We all rode to the scene of action, but
my brother and I, with a few other men, remained behind to wait for Captain Kirsten, who was absent at the time. As
soon as he arrived we rode off, and arrived at Selikatsnek at about nine o'clock. Our burghers had already taken two

of the enemy's guns.

Selikatsnek (or Moselikatsnek) is a narrow opening in the Magalies Mountains, with high shoulders on either side, that
slope gradually to a white kopje in the centre. If an attacking party once occupies the shoulders, it can easily keep the
enemy on the kopje or on the two slopes. When we arrived our burghers already occupied the principal positions—
both shoulders and the smaller positions to the front of the kopje. The enemy had been obliged to draw in their clipped
wings, and to concentrate on and in the neighbourhood of the white kopje.

But as the shoulders of the pass were very steep on the other side, our men could not surround the enemy or attack
them in the rear; and as there was not sufficient cover for them to go down the slope without great loss, in order to drive
the enemy by force from their positions, the burghers remained 'rock-fast' in their positions, and made no progress at
all. Thus, the enemy would either get reinforcements from Pretoria or escape when it got dark. Both our flanks kept up
a constant fire on the slopes, and on the white kopje, but the shoulders were too high for a proper aim, and the khakies
lay fast behind the boulders and in the clefts of the rocks.

Captain Kirsten, with about ten men, was ordered by General Coetzee to hold a position to the right of the white kopje,
and prevent the enemy from taking it. This position consisted of a small rise, from which we could fire at the kopje with
a sight of 550 paces. To the right of this rise, at a distance of 80 paces, was a small kloof overgrown with bushes, and
on the other side of the kloof ran a reef of rocks in the direction of the white kopje. Here some...